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“Come on,” Hizashi whined as the key stuck inside the keyhole and refused to turn. He pressed harder and the keychain jingled, the tiny metallic Present Mic clicking against the other keys.
Hizashi had the hysterical thought that the tiny imitation of him looked tired, washed out like it was under the dying light of his cellphone (on three percent battery now and fading fast), and he couldn’t help out but let out a soft, “You too, huh?”
Metallic Present Mic seemed to wink back at him, Hizashi’s light died, and finally, the door unlocked.
“Note to self,” he mumbled as he carefully pushed the door open and crept inside, “remind Shouta that we need to change the locks.”
It would sadly not be the first time. Or even the last, probably. Between Shouta’s (mostly earned) paranoia, Hizashi’s habits of being slightly too rough on his keys, and both of their habits of slamming doors when they were in a hurry, they had probably made their local locksmith a small fortune.
But that was a problem for another time.
Right now, Hizashi’s main problem was reaching the bed without waking up the whole house — harder than it used to be now that he had to worry about someone other than Shouta — or tripping up over the cats — they somehow seemed to know when Hizashi was trying to be quiet — or worse, both.
Luckily, he knew the room well enough to navigate it in the darkness, and the cats seemed to, for once, be sleeping.
Still, Hizashi moved slowly. He could feel sleep calling his name — he loved his job at the radio station and wouldn’t give it up for anything in the world, but he was getting too old to come home at three am in the middle of the week — but there was nothing like the pain of tripping up over a table to wake you up and keep you up all night.
Which Hizashi really wanted to avoid.
He was almost to the bathroom when he saw it — a sliver of light, slipping through the crack under the guest bedroom’s door.
Hizashi’s stomach fell, and he moved toward it without a thought, gently knocking on the wood with two knuckles.
“Eri?” he asked, casting his voice low enough to carry into her room but not anywhere else. “You up, kid?”
Nothing — Eri didn’t really like the dark, so she often left a light on to sleep, so that light wasn’t usually this bright — and then, a faint rustling sound.
“Yes,” came a quiet answer.
Hizashi sighed. “Can I come in?”
When Eri agreed, Hizashi carefully pushed the door open and stepped inside.
Officially, he and Shouta’s bedroom was still a guest room — Eri stayed at UA almost as often as she stayed with them — but really, it was hers. She’d insisted her room at UA was enough, and sure, that room had more decoration, but not by much.
“Hi,” Hizashi whispered with a soft smile as Eri came into view. She had moved out from under the covers and wrapped them around her shoulders instead, like a very, very long cape, and was huddling around her bedside lamp, which slowly turned and cast soft, pinkish unicorn shadows on the walls.
“Hi,” Eri whispered back, stifling a yawn and rubbing her eyes.
Hizashi’s heart went soft. He sat down at the end of her bed. “Nightmares?”
They were the reason why Eri woke up so often at night. Of course, she was hardly the only one in the house to do so, but the knowledge that this tiny slip of a girl had so much to fear… That she had been through so much…
It made Hizashi want to wrap her up in all of the blankets of the world and tuck her away somewhere where she would be safe and happy forever.
It wasn’t doable, of course, but Eri deserved it.
“Mmh-mh.” Eri nodded and tucked her chin over her knees.
She didn’t look scared, at least, but the defeated look in her eyes was almost worse. Fear, Hizashi knew how to handle. This… This was harder.
“Okay. Do you want to stay here, or do you want to move to the kitchen with me?”
She perked up a little. “Chocolate?”
Hizashi huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, I can make some hot chocolate.”
He didn’t know exactly who had introduced her to the drink, but as it always seemed to make her feel better, Hizashi was nothing if not happy to feed her sweet tooth.
Besides, hot chocolate was amazing against nightmares.
“Won’t Mr. Aizawa be mad?” Eri asked quietly as she shuffled off her bed, covers still tightly wrapped around her shoulders.
‘Mr. Aizawa’ couldn’t stay mad at that little face if he tried, Hizashi thought amusedly, before shaking his head.
“He won’t be. But don’t worry,” he added with a wink, “if he asks, I’ll tell him it was all my idea.”
“But it was your idea?” Eri replied, an adorable furrow on her brow.
Hizashi laughed. “Even better! Now, come on, the chocolate won’t make itself.” He extended out a hand, wiggling his fingers a little, and smiled wider when Eri freed one of her hands from its linen cage to hold his.
“Can I help this time?”
“Of course! Where would I be without my best little listener?”
Eri ducked her head down. She wasn’t smiling, not really, but her eyes seemed… lighter, and her grip on Hizashi’s hands wasn’t quite as desperately tight. It made Hizashi’s heart ache in his chest.
“Now, wanna hear about my callers tonight? One of them wanted to talk about his cats, and he said…”
Keeping half an eye on Eri, Hizashi kept speaking. Speaking was easy, he did it for a job.
And when he did it right, it helped chased the shadows away.
Like now.